Guest Op-Ed by Gretchen Gailey, President of Project Champion
If there is one lesson the cannabis industry should have learned by now, it’s this: Washington does not run on urgency. It runs on process, power, and patience.
For more than a decade, advocates, entrepreneurs, veterans, patients, investors, and policymakers have been told that federal cannabis reform is just around the corner. One more election. One more committee vote. One more White House signal. And yet, even with the President’s directive to reschedule cannabis to Schedule III, the industry remains in limbo. Businesses are still largely locked out of banking. Patients remain vulnerable. Communities promised equity are still waiting.
The uncomfortable truth is that Washington is working exactly as designed. Change, especially disruptive change, takes time. It takes money. And then it takes more time.
That reality is frustrating. But ignoring it has cost the cannabis industry dearly.
Too often, reform is framed as if moral clarity alone should be enough. As if the injustice of prohibition, overwhelming public support, or the sheer economic scale of cannabis should naturally compel Congress to act. But Washington does not move on righteousness. It moves when incentives align, when pressure is sustained, and when the cost of inaction outweighs the cost of change.
That does not happen overnight.
What’s often missing from the conversation is education, not just public education, but congressional education. Many lawmakers shaping cannabis policy are not experts in the industry, the plant, or the unintended consequences of prohibition. Yet their understanding directly affects how, and whether, reform is implemented. Too often, members rely on cursory staff briefings, outdated assumptions, and legacy narratives that have gone largely unchallenged.
That education gap matters now more than ever as the administration moves toward Schedule III. Without sustained, credible engagement that explains the regulatory, economic, and public health implications of rescheduling, even supportive lawmakers hesitate. And in Washington, hesitation doesn’t just slow progress. It gives agencies cover to delay action.
Major federal reforms, from civil rights to marriage equality to the end of alcohol prohibition, did not succeed because the argument was finally “won.” They succeeded because advocates stayed in the fight long enough to build coalitions, fund serious lobbying operations, educate regulators, neutralize opposition, and survive multiple political cycles without losing momentum.
Cannabis is no different. Pretending otherwise has led to burnout, bad strategy, and misplaced outrage.
The industry has also struggled with a second hard truth: access to Washington is not evenly distributed. Change requires money, not just campaign donations, but sustained investment in policy infrastructure. Experienced lobbyists. Legal expertise. Data. Polling. Relationship-building. Year after year. Administration after administration.
Many cannabis operators understandably resent this reality. The industry already bears enormous costs through punitive taxes, compliance burdens, and legal risk in a state-legal market the federal government still refuses to fully recognize. But refusing to engage with the system as it exists does not make it disappear. It only ensures others, often with competing interests, fill the vacuum.
And those interests are still very much at the table. Law enforcement groups. Pharmaceutical companies. Alcohol distributors. Private prison contractors. They understand Washington’s pace, and they are patient. They show up every day. They fund their priorities relentlessly. And they are content to let cannabis exhaust itself chasing headlines instead of outcomes.
That’s the third hard truth: time favors those who plan for it.
The cannabis movement has won public opinion. It has won the states. It has won the culture. But federal reform is no longer a cultural argument. It is a technical, political, and economic one. Regulatory frameworks. Tax policy. Interstate commerce. Public health standards. Labor protections. Social equity mechanisms that actually function.
None of that fits neatly on a protest sign or in a viral post. But it is where real change happens.
If the industry wants different results, it must adjust its expectations and its tactics. That means committing to long-term advocacy even when progress feels invisible. Supporting sustained efforts between election cycles. Holding allies accountable without burning bridges. Accepting that incremental wins, while unsatisfying, are often the only way forward in a system designed to resist rapid change.
Washington will not be rushed. It will not be shamed into speed. And it will not act simply because cannabis deserves better, no matter how true that may be.
If federal reform is going to move from promise to policy, the industry must invest in the people doing the work where it actually happens. That means supporting the advocates, policy experts, and educators who are in Washington every day briefing staff, engaging agencies, navigating bureaucracy, and telling hard truths when shortcuts won’t work.
Because the reality remains: change takes time, money, and more time. And only those willing to do the work, day in and day out, will shape where cannabis goes next.
This is a guest op-ed by an external contributor. The views expressed are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of High Times.
